In a little while they stretched across Turtle bay and
Kip's bay, then shrouded themselves in the deep shadows of the
Manhattan shore, and glided swiftly along, secure from observation. At
length Sam shot his skiff into a little cove, darkly embowered by
trees, and made it fast to the well known iron ring. They now landed,
and lighting the lanthorn, gathered their various implements and
proceeded slowly through the bushes. Every sound startled them, even
that of their footsteps among the dry leaves; and the hooting of a
screech owl, from the shattered chimney of father red-cap's ruin, made
their blood run cold.
In spite of all Wolfert's caution in taking note of the landmarks, it
was some time before they could find the open place among the trees,
where the treasure was supposed to be buried. At length they came to
the ledge of rock; and on examining its surface by the aid of the
lanthorn, Wolfert recognized the three mystic crosses. Their hearts
beat quick, for the momentous trial was at hand that was to determine
their hopes.
The lanthorn was now held by Wolfert Webber, while the doctor produced
the divining rod. It was a forked twig, one end of which was grasped
firmly in each hand, while the centre, forming the stem, pointed
perpendicularly upwards. The doctor moved this wand about, within a
certain distance of the earth, from place to place, but for some time
without any effect, while Wolfert kept the light of the lanthorn turned
full upon it, and watched it with the most breathless interest.
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